You Are A Good Parent

Theme for October...drum roll please!

Ok, so I'm not really sure I have a theme for October yet, but parenting has been on my mind a lot lately, so I'll go with that.

"You are a good parent."

...Words we love to hear, but don't hear often enough.

Prior to starting my private practice I led a weekly parent-child relationship group.  It was part of a cluster of groups where parents met in one room while their children met separately to work on social and relationship skills.  The children of said parents were kiddos who struggled in practically every setting.  They were children with Autism, ADHD, Anxiety, Depression, PTSD, Attachment Disorder...and the list goes on.  Parenting these children was a particular challenge, hence the parenting group.

Needless to say, parents often come to group exhausted and discouraged, with little progress to report, and they were honest about it.  Parents new to the group were always pleasantly surprised and relieved to hear they weren't the only ones struggling.  Group check in frequently became an update on the week's disasters.  It wasn't uncommon for parents to keep tabs on whose son or daughter was kicked out of daycare or suspended from school.  Parents often expressed frustration at hearing well-meaning peers, co-workers, neighbors, and teachers hint that their child's problem was a case of bad parenting.  I believe, and frequently tried to reinforce to the group, that they were exceptional parents who were dealing with issues that many parents will never experience; problems which required them daily to reach down deep inside themselves to find a level of parenting they didn't know existed.

I remember one week that seemed abnormally tough for most of the parents.  During our group check-in, I heard parent after parent describe their week.

"My son dumped craft paint all over a newly painted, newly carpeted room at daycare.  On purpose!"


"We had a huge meltdown at the grocery store and I have huge bruises on my legs and arms from trying to carry my son to the car."


"Someone called DCFS on us...same neighbor, for the eighth time."

I could tell that on that particular night the group needed a little more than the usual "hoorah" for their efforts.  Earlier that same week I had watched a television interview on the news of a mother discussing her toddler's recovery after he had nearly drowned in the bathtub.  She had stepped away for only a minute, but that's all it took.  During the television interview the mother said, "I know I'm a good mom."  That statement stuck with me because I could tell when she said it she believed it.  Inside I celebrated because I knew that her little boy would not have to grow up in the shadow of his mother's guilt at having walked away from the bathtub for only a minute.  She could forgive herself.  They could enjoy the gift of life they had been given.  In the heirarchy of importance to a child, it was a blessing equal to that little boy's life.  Every child deserves to look into their parent's eyes and see delight.  (See more on the story here.)

As I shared the story with my group, a mom in the back of the room started to cry, first little tears, but before long she was sobbing.     Other parents shared tears as well.  One by one they began to express hurt and anger at the the invalidating things they so often hear from others about their children.  It seemed that everyone had an opinion about their child, and everyone had advice, yet no one but them had to walk in their shoes all day, every day without a break.  In the fatigue of their lives, fun was often lost to function, and they were operating in survival mode.

Under ordinary circumstances, being able to say, "I'm a good parent," isn't always easy.  We beat ourselves up for everything...missed appointments, late homework, dirty laundry, a sink full of dishes.

I've done it too.  On the day of the group I mentioned above, I remember listening to the group and thinking about my own day.  I hadn't left myself enough time that morning and had rushed my kids, and doled out my own share of mommy guilt for being impatient with them.  I had also remembered half way through the day that I missed a soccer sign up for my daughter.

So how much more difficult is it for parents of children with emotional and behavioral difficulties, who hear constantly about the problems their child is having, to feel good about being a parent?  It isn't what they expected it would be, and everyone and everything in their world reinforces to them that they should be different, or their child should be different.

I came across this online video again a few days ago, and posted it to facebook.  It's an essay by Emily Pearl Kingsley, the mother of a child with Downs Syndrome.  Emily was a writer for the PBS children's program, Sesame Street.  Early in her career, Emily gave birth to a son with Downs Syndrome.  Subsequently, she used her work to create awareness of children with special needs, and people with disabilities were often included in the show's programming.  I think she beautifully captures what it means to be the parent of a child with any type of disability.



Remember:  "You are a good parent."  Go hug that kid and tell them you love them and are glad you're on this journey with them.